Mana is by no means a static substance.
Some say that mana is a tool for embodying ideals.
Others liken it to the wheels that carve out destiny.
But my way of defining mana was a bit different.
It might sound a little bleak and dull compared to their expressions, but I want to say that mana is a thread of probability.
Another term for probability is possibility.
From that thread, we pull out a single strand and make decisions about the future.
For example, when clouds gather, it can rain, snow, or lightning can strike.
A farmer, whose crops are about to wither, would desire a proper shower.
To pull out such possibilities, we learn mathematics, observe natural phenomena, and weave the fabric of the future from the threads of mana and the loom of magic circles.
However, mana is a thread that moves on its own.
Just like repairing the engine of a stationary car is easier than fixing the beating heart of a living person, mana is quite the same.
In the past, my master shared a metaphor regarding this called “the orb on the bed,” and I found it quite relatable.
The orb placed on the bed doesn’t move without external force, but the moment we sit on it, a slope forms towards the center, causing the orb to roll around and approach us.
We can tell that the orb rolls because a slope is formed, but the orb itself has no idea why it is moving.
Although mana is not a sentient being, it moves irregularly and restlessly in this chaotic world like a tadpole.
Because of this fact, it was difficult for us to inject an appropriate amount of mana into the magic circle.
—
“Oh, this time was pretty good.”
“To be honest, I don’t even know why it turned out so high. It was so hard…”
After a dozen attempts of injection, Yuna collapsed on her desk, resting her head with a thud.
She tried injecting mana all over and then just in the center.
My suggestion was that the more intense the injection, the more efficient the magic circle became, but seeing some numbers as low as 2 or 3 showed it wasn’t always the case.
“Na-me, can’t you give it a try?”
Yuna handed me the model magic circle.
“How high do you want the efficiency to be?”
“Is that adjustable?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, I see…”
Yuna’s face darkened as she exerted herself to boost the numbers.
It didn’t sit well in my heart, feeling like I was trampling on a young child’s dream.
Pouting, it was obvious to anyone that Seo Yu-na was upset.
Sigh, as an adult, I guess I should comfort her.
“Yuna, listen. It’s not that I’m better than you and can use magic well; it just seems that way because I know more about magic than you do right now.”
“What’s the difference?”
“There is. You’ve only been learning magic for a year, right? I’ve been at it for much longer.”
“How long?”
“About 20 years?”
“Don’t lie…!”
“Alright, I’ve done it for about 5 years. So if you study hard and learn everything I know, you can definitely become a better wizard than me.”
It’s only natural for reincarnators to look like geniuses when they are young.
But it doesn’t guarantee that they will remain geniuses as adults.
When the third prince Hiasen or hero Klaus were young, I could dominate them in swordsmanship, but eventually, they caught up to me in skill.
I instilled confidence in Yuna, saying her magical ability was on par with any friend of her age.
“So let me roughly explain what this magic is. Look.”
The number of circles doesn’t necessarily mean the strength of the magic.
However, the higher the circle, the easier it is to release high-powered magic since the mana circuit becomes longer and more complex, offsetting efficiency loss.
Magic is really about naming, but in this case, I’d call this ‘Heat Transfer-Coil’ magic.
The heat transfer magic I earlier used to warm Yuna’s head could utilize one of the methods of conduction, convection, or radiation.
But this level 2 circle magic was a somewhat unique spell that used an electromagnet and coil to transfer heat.
If I went on to explain, I’d have to mention ‘Ohm’s law’, ‘Resistance Loss’, ‘Skin Effect’, ‘Eddy current’, and the like, but I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to make Yuna cry.
Fundamentally a heat magic, since it’s not vector magic, the more mana you inject, the stronger the output becomes.
Due to the scale effect, the more powerful the magic, the less influence efficiency has, resulting in higher detection values.
However, the reason efficiency varied depending on where mana was injected was that the magic circle was set with different resistance values.
So when viewed from the front, if 150kE was optimal for the northern side, 200kE might have been optimal for the southern side.
With such low-level magic, it didn’t matter if it was 150 or 200; you could ignore efficiency and just use it. But as it eventually scales up to the hundreds of thousands or millions, you’d have to start paying attention to the injection steps.
I simply flowed about 170kE of mana to the center of the magic circle.
Beep-
—
An analysis indicated that the magic was cast, approaching the theoretical maximum efficiency threshold.
It probably rounded to the nearest decimal place like this.
Proper calculation would yield an efficiency around 99.17%.
“How… how did you do it in just one try…?”
Yuna exclaimed in shock.
“You can do it too. Want to try injecting 171.4kE?”
“I can’t be that precise.”
“I’ll help you, so give it a shot.”
Just like in the bathroom before, I linked my hand with Yuna’s, placing my palm over her hand.
Humans have various sensory receptors in their skin, and among them, Merkel cells that detect touch and Meissner’s corpuscles that detect vibrations are particularly widespread in the palm.
By linking our hands this way, I could easily tell how much mana she could inject by how much her hand trembled or tingled as she pulled out the strand of mana.
Human hands are sensitive enough to directly influence the magic cast by others.
“Your hands are really soft. Like baby skin.”
“That’s not something Na-me should say!”
“We’re running out of time. Let’s hurry.”
“I’m not responsible if I faint.”
Yuna squeezed every last ounce of power she had, pulling up the remaining mana.
The mana, unconsciously tinged with red, slowly flowed from her hand.
“It’s over 150 now.”
“Just a little more…?”
“We need to slow down now; if it overflows, that won’t do.”
I could feel all the blood flowing through the capillaries in her hand, along with her pulse.
Injecting mana is an irreversible process, so once it’s injected, it can’t be contained again.
While it’s usually good to fill generously, we were aiming solely for efficiency here, so I asked her for fine control.
“It’s exactly 170 now. Just think of spilling a drop.”
“One drop? How do I do that? I can’t do it like that!”
“You can do it. Just trust your instincts.”
“I really don’t know…!”
In the end, Yuna squeezed her eyes shut and folded all four of her fingers.
She creatively attempted to touch the magic circle with just her pinky.
She instinctively realized reducing the contact area would also reduce the injected amount.
“Perfect!”
Beep-
“I can’t see the result! You tell me instead!”
“Really not gonna look? If you don’t hurry, I’ll reset it!”
I nudged the box to where Yuna could see it well.
Surely, it would yield a result that would be satisfying enough for her.
—
*
—
Teacher Jacqueline Carroll looked on with delight as the children passionately engaged in their performance assessment.
It seemed the goal of familiarizing the kids with the ‘injection’ phase using a model structure identical to the magic circle was nearly achieved.
It was a simple performance assessment where they needed to inject mana into the magic circle and just record the process on paper, but the presence of a quantitative measure from 0 to 10 ignited the competitive spirit within the students.
Who would record the highest number?
In the 2nd Grade A Class of Sephiron Academy, a quiet competition was held under the unspoken agreement that the child who cast the magic circle with the highest efficiency during this time would be the greatest.
It all began with Kim Han-gyeol’s shout.
“Look! I got higher than the teacher! 8.7! That’s right, 8.7!”
Han-gyeol shrugged his shoulders, basking in the envious gazes of the kids.
Just randomly injecting mana produced some random numbers.
But if a high number came up by chance, it could instantly capture the attention of the entire class.
For second-grade elementary school kids, it was undeniably a sweet treat.
“I surpassed 9!”
Lee Ha-ru stuck out his tongue, showing off his box.
By now, everyone had completely forgotten that this was a performance assessment.
With just 5 minutes left on the clock, a record that seemed unbreakable was once again shattered by Yoon Si-hoo.
“Hey kids, look! Yoon Si-hoo got 9.4!”
Si-hoo himself didn’t seem too interested in this competition, but many kids jumped up in excitement to check it out, causing chaos in the class.
A few students had already given up on the competition, but there were still a couple of kids who held onto small hopes with the remaining time.
And just as the break time bell was about to ring, Seo Yu-na leaped out of her chair, lifting her box high into the air.
“10!”
She shouted that one number with all her might, but in that moment, it was no ordinary number.
“I win.”
Yuna flashed a faint smile towards Si-hoo, a grin of an undeniable victor.
